


Audience Participation

by Switchadelphia (PumpkinHeadJones)



Series: Switchie's Shorts [3]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, M/M, Male Slash, Manipulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Voyeurism, but i love it, seriously hawt stuff, this is so gross, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinHeadJones/pseuds/Switchadelphia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dude, did you hear something?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Audience Participation

**Author's Note:**

> This fic name is honestly so dumb. Someone give me suggestions for a better one.

“Dude, did you hear something?”

Mac is looking nervously from side to side down the alleyway behind Paddy’s as he slides his cock slowly, shallowly, in and out of Dennis’s asshole. It’s as if he thinks that _sneaking_ his dick into Dennis will somehow make it less conspicuous to potential onlookers that they’re butt-fucking out back behind the dumpster.

Dennis makes an unintelligible grunting noise, kind of like a “huh?” but mixed with a growl, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at Mac to acknowledge the question. So Mac repeats it.

“Dude, I _said_ , did you hear something?” 

Dennis shrugs. Dennis doesn’t seem too worried. Dennis is standing, spread-eagle, with the palms of his hands pressed into the bricks in front of him, pushing his hips back to meet each of Mac’s half-aborted thrusts. Dennis is always so _cool_ in these sorts of situations. Dennis’s shirt is rucked up high enough on his chest to expose his tiny, hard nips. Dennis’s pants are pooled down around his ankles. Dennis is talking. Mac listens.

“You’re just, just hearing things, baby boy,” Dennis says in that voice he always uses whenever Mac gets woo worked up and wants to use his fists instead of his words. “Don’t worry, we won’t get caught, there’s no one here to see, God, you’re so hot, baby, fuck me - “ Mac tightens his grip on Dennis’s hips, but still, he slows.

“But what if - ”

Dennis cuts Mac off with a big, dramatic sigh and reaches blindly back with one hand toward Mac’s ass. He grabs onto a cheek and yanks Mac’s hips forward, rolling his pillowy ass back to meet him halfway. Mac forgets what his point was.

“You know, if you’re so - so worried about getting caught,” Dennis says, “then maybe you should, you know…fuck me a little faster.” Dennis is panting, and the one arm that’s supporting his body weight on the wall is shaking with exertion. Mac makes a mental note to make sure Dennis eats something tonight. “I’d come a lot faster, and you’d be done with me a lot sooner.”

Mac wants to laugh. Mac is never done with Dennis. But Dennis doesn’t need to be told this. So instead, Mac says,

“Maybe, but I also know that if I bang you any harder, you’re gonna start moaning a lot louder, too, and oh my God, we’re already so goddamn _loud_ , dude, really, _fuck_ \- ” Mac isn’t sure why he’s even arguing with Dennis right now - he’s already swatted Dennis’s hand off his ass and picked up the tempo of his thrusts, anyway - because Dennis always gets what he wants. Maybe Mac just wants it on record that he had _nothing_ to do with this plan. Dennis looks a lot more stable with both hands firmly planted back on the stone wall.

Mac is starting to sweat through his duster. Dennis is starting to get louder. Mac thinks he can see steam coming off of them as their sweat mixes and evaporates in the cold October air. Dennis’s sweat always feels weirdly cold to Mac. Dennis is starting to talk again.

“Oh shit, that’s it, babe, bang my slutty hole…wait, right there, yes, keep going right there, you’ve gotten so good at this, Mac, I’ve trained you so well, _fuck_ , I’m so hard, tell me what a whore I am - ”

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” 

Mac lets out a manly yelp of surprise at the sound of Rickety Cricket’s voice just behind them. He _knew_ he’d heard someone moving around, goddammit! Mac is convinced for a full six seconds that he has literally puked his heart out onto Dennis’s sweaty, exposed back. For a delirious moment before he opens his eyes, he half expects to see it lying there in front of him, pounding loud enough for Cricket and everyone to hear. White hot panic stabs through him until his toes and neck hairs and nostrils are tingling with it. Mac feels Dennis jolt and clench around his cock in his own surprise, making Mac grunt, and why in the _fuck_ is he still inside Dennis right now?

“What the _fuck_ , Cricket?” Mac screeches it, and he’s man enough to admit that. And really, how the fuck else are you supposed to react when you get walked in on, balls-deep inside your best friend, by a homeless ex-priest-turned-trick?

“Can’t you see that we’re busy?” Dennis says, and Mac hates how goddamn _cool_ Dennis still sounds. Dennis is shivering. Mac can see goosebumps forming on Dennis’s skin, where the sweat is cooling and the breeze is picking up. Mac grabs the lapels of his duster and, leaning forward over Dennis’s body, drapes them over the more exposed bits of skin there. The movement pushes his still-diamond-hard cock impossibly deeper into Dennis’s shivering body, but Mac ignores the way that his roommate keens. Honestly, why the fuck doesn’t he just pull out?

“Oh, I can see everything just fine, thanks,” Cricket says in that creepy rasp he’s had ever since Frank clipped him with that metal garbage can. “’S not my fault you two decided to bang out here on Dumpster Dive Day.”

“For Christsakes, Cricket, you’re digging through our trash now?” Mac bites out incredulously. Dennis lets out a mean little chuckle, like he can’t help himself. Dennis has barely moved from his earlier position, bent forward with his hands up against the wall to prop him up.

“Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon,” Cricks says proudly. Dennis sniggers again. “So, boys, how should we proceed from here?” Mac furrows his eyebrows and looks over his shoulder at the dirty hobo. 

“Proceed from _where_ , exactly?” he asks, and he’s honestly just getting really fucking pissed off at this point. Cricket takes a step forward and to the right so that he’s standing more to the side of them. Mac is glad that he doesn’t have to strain his neck so far to see Cricket, but he’s also glad he took the time to cover Dennis up like he did. Where he’s standing now, Cricket would be able to see _everything_.

“ _You know_ ,” Cricket says meaningfully, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows up in a vaguely suggestive way. “Three healthy, red-blooded men, sharing a night of passion in the alleyway, our bodies becoming one as we share the journey to pleasure.” 

Dennis is laughing outright now, all high-pitched and breathy, and Mac does not see what’s so goddamn funny. He wraps his arms tighter around Dennis’s abdomen and allows himself one tiny, almost imperceptible jerk of his hips, just to re-position his feet, really. And, well, to take the edge off of the compulsive stab of violent rage toward Cricket that just ripped through him. Whatever, details. Dennis lets out a grunt, but doesn’t comment.

“ _Fuck_ no, Cricket, we don’t want you coming anywhere near us,” Mac says. “Now get the fuck outta here!” Like _fuck_ is Mac going to let the likes of Rickety Cricket touch even just _him_ , much less Dennis. Mac went down that road once before, and his body built up a resistance to penicillin as a result.

“Oh come on,” Cricket whines, bouncing up and down on his heels like a child. “Why’d you even come out here to bang on Dumpster Dive Day if it wasn’t to seduce me?” Mac sucks in a deep breath, but a cold, bony hand on his wrist stays him. Mac’s getting too hot. He lets the breath out in a sigh. Dennis is being very quiet in all of this. Mac is still inside Dennis. Cricks goes on. “Okay fine, whatever, you don’t wanna bang me, I get it. But can I at least stay and watch? I mean, what’s the point of putting on a show out here if you don’t have a captive audience, am I right?” Cricket wiggles his eyebrows at Mac, and Mac honestly wants to set those eyebrows on fire right now.

Mac goes to grab the crowbar they keep propped up behind the dumpster for sticky jams like this. Dennis cries out a little in pain as Mac’s cock finally slips free of his asshole because yikes, Mac didn’t mean to jerk his hips around so hard in the process, but he’s got bigger problems right now. “I said no, you goddamn street rat!” Mac yells, lifting up the crow bar like he’s going to chuck it at Cricket’s face. “Get the fuck out of here, you piece of shit!”

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, baby boy,” Dennis intercedes, breaking his relative silence and twisting his torso around so he can grab onto the wrist that’s holding up the crow bar. Dennis lightly tugs on Mac’s wrist, urging him to lower his arm. “Why don’t we put down the blunt objects and talk this out like rational adults, here?” Dennis gently pries Mac’s fingers off of the metal bar and tosses it on the ground behind them. “Can you do that for me, baby boy?” Dennis has this bashful look on his face that tells Mac that he’s about to be manipulated into doing something he’s going to regret later.

“You know,” Dennis says in a reasoning tone, all slippery-smooth and coy as shit, “I really don’t mind if Crick’s watches.” Mac stares incredulously at the slitted eye peaking over Dennis’s shoulder. “I know, i know, but look, just hear me out for a second here, okay baby? Hear me out. Can you do that for me, baby boy?” Mac is really starting to hate that pet name. “Look, we had a really good thing going back there, just now right? I mean, that was some really good stuff going on back there, some really good momentum.” Mac’s eyes are fixed on the space where Dennis’s neck disappears below layers of rucked up shirt. Mac nods. “We aren’t just going to let some _street rat_ come down here and ruin all of that for us, are we?”

“Yeah, no, right,” Mac mutters. Dennis tugs Mac’s now-empty crow bar throwing arm back around his abdomen to join the other one that’s still wrapped there. Dennis is a terrible, manipulative piece of shit.

“Yeah, baby boy, yeah,” Dennis coos, and Mac is definitely starting to hate that fucked up nickname. “Let the dirty hobo watch, who gives a shit? It’s just _Cricket_.” Mac is still running hot, but Dennis stays cool. Dennis always stays cool. Dennis reaches behind him and wraps his chilly fingers around Mac’s shiny, exposed cock. Dennis pulls on it like a leash. Mac follows like a dog. “Who cares if he watches? He lets strays bang his neck hole.” Why is this working? _How is Mac still hard_? “Come on, babe, finish what you started.”

Dennis lines Mac’s cock up with the shiny rim of his asshole and turns back to the bricks. Mac slides himself back into the tight sleeve of warmth that is Dennis’s ass. Dennis moans and rolls his hips back to flush against Mac. Sometimes Mac thinks this is the only warmth to be found inside Dennis; even the flesh of his asscheeks is cool to the touch. Then again, they’ve been out here for a while, and the sun is going down. Mac can hear the sharp grind of Cricket’s zipper, but Dennis, thankfully, pulls his attention away from all of that with a rare over-the-shoulder kiss. On the next inward thrust, Dennis’s flesh feels warmer. Mac feels like he’s on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 1 April 2016.
> 
> Send me requests.


End file.
